То venerate the simple days

Success is counted sweetest
 

I never hear the word “Escape”

'Twas such a little — little boat

For each ecstatic instant

To learn the Transport by the Pain — 

I've known a Heaven, like a Tent —

There's a certain Slant of light

A solemn thing — it was — I said —

Alone, I cannot be 

I reason, Earth is short –

Before I got my eye put out

After great pain a formal feeling comes

We grow accustomed to the Dark —

You'll know it — as you know 'tis Noon —

Much Madness is divinest Sense —

I'm ceded — I've stopped being Theirs —

It was not death, for I stood up

To fill a Gap

Trust in the Unexpected —

I dwell in Possibility —

One need not be a Chamber — to be Haunted —

To be alive — is Power —

The Tint I cannot take — is best —

I many times thought peace had come

Drama's Vitallest Expression is the Common Day

Presentiment — is that long Shadow — on the Lawn

This Consciousness that is aware

Nature and God — I neither knew

Split the Lark — and you'll find the Music

The Soul's distinct connection

Crumbling is not an instant's Act

Lest this be Heaven indeed

Tell all the truth but tell it slant —

We never know how high we are

Who never wanted — maddest Joy

Obtaining but our own Extent

Each that we lose takes part of us

Eden is that old-fashioned House

Speech is one symptom of Affection